The Artefact
by PuffinsandPelicans
Summary: Sequel to Amnesia. When SPR take on a case involving a strange relic, they are dragged into a perilous mystery that stretches back twenty years into Lin's past. The group must follow the artefact's bloody history and prevent a new enemy, who will stop at nothing to unlock the relic's dangerous secrets, from exploiting the artefact's dark potential
1. Chapter 1: 3,000 Kilometres

**(A/N): Though I do not own Ghost Hunt, the work I write is my own. Do not copy, lift or use anything I write as claim it as your own, for that is plagiarism and is illegal. **

* * *

The night was cold.

For the figure who led the way, the freezing air and the snow and ice that buffeted their face was nothing more than a slight disturbance. They knew, though, never to underestimate the power and force that the Kunlun Mountains could unleash on an arrogant or careless traveller. As of now, the bitter weather did not threaten to harm or seriously hinder the travellers, though the two men who walked behind the guide were struggling from the cold.

It was a strange party of three that walked on the mountain – the guide was simply a figure, a silhouette, hidden inside a thin, cloak-like material that looked far too thin for the harsh climate. Their face was not visible, and it was impossible to determine their gender. No one knew the name of this person, only that they were a mountain guide who had been instructed to guide the two other travellers across the mountain to a monastery on one of the many mountain slopes.

Whoever they were, they walked swiftly and confidently, easily trekking over the rock and ice. In contrast, the two other travellers struggled in the cold conditions: one walked uncertainly behind the guide, his footsteps slipping occasionally and his pace faltering, but constantly nervous and always looking around him, as if he was expecting to be attacked at any moment; the other, a mere child, gripped fearfully onto the rope that attached him to his father as he skidded and tripped over the treacherous terrain, barely managing to keep up.

After some time, the three slowed to a stop. Bending over, the man panted as he caught his breath, the wisps of condensation being swept away by the wind within seconds. The child, exhausted, slumped to the floor.

"_F-Father_…" He gasped. "W-W-When will we arrive at the m-m-monastery?" He spoke in Cantonese.

"I don't know." His father was exasperated in his reply, having heard the question numerous times on the journey, and the child whimpered quietly to himself. The man patted the child's head, before turning to the guide. "Well?"

"…A few miles." It was the first time the guide had spoken for the entire journey, and they spoke using Cantonese. Still, their gender was unidentifiable – their voice was little more than a whisper that was snatched away in the gale. "We will continue. Come."

The guide began to walk, so the man followed swiftly. The child stood up begrudgingly and dragged himself along.

"…Your name…" the guide asked after a period of silence. "…is Lin-xiānshēng, yes?"

"Ah, yes."

"And you are from…?"

"Hong Kong."

The guide chuckled. It was a strange, grating sound, almost like ice on rock.

"…No wonder you seem so…unaccustomed to this weather. Hong Kong is subtropical, is it not?"

"Yes, yes it is." The man, Lin, seemed reluctant to continue conversation, instead trying to focus his efforts on walking steadily on the ground without slipping.

"And you are a professor?"

"Yes."

Again, they walked for silence in some time, before the guide spoke once more, "What exactly is your purpose here?"

"…I am investigating something."

"Oh?"

Koujou seemed reluctant to talk about it, and did not elaborate on it. The guide asked this time,

"…Whatever it is you are investigating, I hope you know where to find it. The Kunlun mountains are vast. 3,000km." Again, the man did not answer, so the guide took a different angle. "Your son. Is he part of this investigation?"

"No." This time, Lin's answer was immediate, and almost angry. "…He is just here for training. That is all."

"Training?"

"The monastery practises some interesting martial arts. I am bringing him here to train in them."

After that, no more words were passed between them, and they continued the walk in silence. Finally, they seemed to be heading downwards.

"There! There it is!" Lin pointed in relief. At the base of the mountain, the faint outline of the monastery was just visible.

Panting, the child grinned. "W-We're here?"

"Almost. Just a little further." His father took his hand, for the child seemed on the point of collapsing. The guide watched on in silence – it was the first time the entire journey that the man had ever looked relaxed. Throughout the rest of the journey, the professor had been very quiet. When they had first met, he kept on looking around himself nervously, as if expecting ill fortune. Every time they stopped for a break, the professor would shuffle uneasily, checking over his shoulder. His lips were always pursed, and his hand was frequently lingering at his side, where his mountaineering knife was, fingers brushing over the hilt, ready to unsheathe it. The man could barely stand still, and each gust of wind seemed to startle him. He was afraid of something, the guide realised. His actions and his movements were fuelled by fear. What was he so scared of? Perhaps it was the journey itself, the guide wondered. If Lin was from Hong Kong, a subtropical area, and was not used to cold, vicious mountain weather, then it would not be unusual for him to be nervous.

Even so, the guide was not satisfied. Fear in others was often an indicator of imminent danger or trouble. It would be foolish not to remain on guard. The guide's intuition was sharp, and had not failed them in the past. Now, it was telling them that something dangerous was afoot.

After only a few minutes, the fog began to clear, and the guide could pick out a figure standing by the edge of the treacherous mountain side, waiting.

"Ah, that will be one of the monks." Lin spoke. "Stay here. I'll go greet him." Untying the rope that connected him to his son, the professor walked towards the figure. Remaining silent, the guide watched on warily. Something was wrong. The monk was sill, as if he was frozen. The guide had interacted with the monks of the nearby monastery several times, and they were always friendly. They would always go and greet their visitor, welcome them, talk to them, even in the harshest of weather. This person…their stance was threatening, as if waiting to be attacked, or to attack. Did something happen at the monastery?

That did not matter to the guide, and it was not in their place to interfere, but nevertheless, they watched intently.

Lin arrived by the monk and introduced himself. His words were just audible over the wind. "…I'm Professor Lin, I'm here to help with your possession problem." He turned, and pointed over to where his son stood. The monk moved closer to him, slowly moving back his arm. "And over there is –"

The monk thrust his arm forwards, and Professor Lin's words cut off. His mouth opened but no sound came out. The monk moved backwards, clutching something that glinted with red through the storm. Professor Lin sank to his knees, gasping.

"F-Father?" His son called anxiously.

The professor fell to the floor.

"D-Dad!" The boy ran forwards, almost hurtling himself off the mountain path in the process. "Dad!"

The monk had not moved and stood still, waiting.

"Wait! Stay here!" The guide rushed forwards, grabbing the child, but the boy wrestled himself from their grasp. "Dad!"

Throwing himself down onto the ground, the boy grabbed his father and, through tears and a strained voice, began to shake him. "Daddy…Daddy, wake up…"

The professor began to stir. He pushed himself up, clutching his abdomen with one hand, reaching out to his son with the other. His palm was stained with blood.

"S-Son…L-Listen to me…run away…g-go…" He coughed and heaved, gasping for breath.

"But you're hurt! You're b-bleeding!"

All the while, the monk had not moved, as the child tried to drag his father to his feet. "Come on…we have to go…the monastery is nearby…"

It was all too easy. The professor was tall and heavy, while the boy was weak. There was no way he would be able to move quickly while supporting the professor's weight. Finally, the monk moved forwards, and simply pushed the two travellers, who stumbled, fell, and rolled off the side of the mountain.

Crying in pain, the professor grabbed the rocky ledge with one hand, gripping his son with the other hand, grunting with pain. The monk watched him as he dangled desperately to the edge.

Choking, the professor shouted, "W-Who are you?!"

The monk said nothing. Instead, he lifted his hand, showing a knife that had already been bloodied.

"A messenger." He spoke finally. "From R.M."

The knife came down towards the professor's hand.

It stopped.

The monk froze again, the knife hovering a few inches from the professor's hands. Then he fell, tumbling off the mountainside, past the professor and his son, into the dark, distant depths below.

The guide threw their own knife to the floor, and got down onto the ground.

"P-Please!" Professor Lin gasped. "Take…take my son!"

Carefully, the guide reached down and grabbed the boy, ready to pull him up.

Heaving, the professor croaked, "…Koujou. Listen to me. G-Go to the monastery. Ask for Luella Johnson. T-Tell them…that you're my s-son."

"But…you're coming with me. Dad, you're coming with me." The boy's tone took one of desperation, as he realised what his father was telling him.

"K-Koujou. I…I love you. I want you to know that. I love you."

"D-Dad –"

"Do you love me, Koujou?"

"O-Of course –"

"Say if for me. Please. One last time."

The boy was hoisted onto the ledge by the guide.

"I love you, Daddy. But please, come with us. Please."

Professor Lin smiled. "I'm sorry. Good bye, Koujou."

His hand slipped away.


	2. Chapter 2: The Visitor

**(A/N): ...**

**...**

**...**

**I'M SO SORRY I'VE TAKEN SO LONG TO UPDATE! I'M REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY SORRY!**

**Unfortunately, this story has been a bit problematic for me. At first, I thought I had it all figured out. Then I changed my mind and had to adapt the story line. Then I changed my mind again. And again.**

**So, this is story line number four. I kind of went on hiatus, I guess you could say. I'm really, really, really sorry.**

**Sometimes with stories, the plot line comes really naturally, and the writing is easy - Amnesia posed little problems for me as a writer. Sometimes, though, you'll have the general plot line sorted out, but all the smaller but equally as important details just don't come together for a while. This was one of the many problems with this story.**

**Moreover, school is annoying but necessary and gets in the way of things. However, I will not take nearly as long to update as I have for this chapter.**

**Also, thank you to AmyNChan and Alexia1993 for pointing out my mistake with Lin's name - I actually had no idea, but when you both pointed it out, it made a lot of sense to me. Thank you.**

**I really am sorry about the wait, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Autumn was far along its course when the incident began.

Outside, the air was fresh and light, all the heavy heat of summer long since disintegrated and lost on the cool breezes of October. Each day was cold, and brought a sharp frost on the grass. The frequent downfalls left the fragrant scent of rain hanging among the city, and every tree had been painted with vivid hues of scarlet, amber and gold. Despite the macabre scenes of dying trees, and the flowers slowly withering up and dying, there was busyness about the people of Tokyo, and a fresh excitement for the coming holidays ahead. It was as if the entire city had been awoken after the sleepy summer months by the cold new winds of autumn.

Wrapping my scarf around my neck to protect myself from the winds that were particularly harsh that day, I continued my walk down the Tokyo streets. Already, patters of freezing rain were coming down from the darkening sky, and crows wheeled above the buildings, surfing on the gales of what seemed to be an oncoming storm.

It had been some time since I had felt so…safe to be out in public. It had been a year since the incident in spring, and the past year had been a difficult time for me, swarmed with trials, police inquiries, and therapy. The terrors of the Mattaku Psychiatric Ward had somehow found its way into public awareness, and had quickly caused shock and outrage among many, considering the horrifically high death toll it left in its wake.

By some miracle, and the strong support of my friends and family, I had managed to pull through the worst of it. I was standing on shaky ground, and I still had a long way to go before I could continue living normally or fall back into the routine of what my ordinary life had been before I was dragged into the Mattaku situation. However, my mental health was improving with each day, and I had come a long way since my encounter with the mad man who called himself 'the colleague'. There were still moments when it was hard – almost unbearably so – but I was staying standing so far, and I knew I could fall back on my friends if it ever did get too difficult.

It was only when I reached my apartment that I was approached. The wisteria that usually crept up the walls of the building had long since dried up and died, leaving empty shells of the flowers behind and skeletal remains of the leaves that had once adorned it. Behind me, the gate clanged shut, and the wind brushed the leaves across the road, making them dance and pirouette across the tarmac. Fumbling for my key, I approached the door. It had taken a while for me to become comfortable with staying here again, considering what happened the previous year.

The gate clanged again as I finally retrieved my key, and I pushed it into the lock with difficult, my hands going numb despite the overlarge leather gloves I wore.

Then I stopped. Why had the gate clanged twice? I turned around.

There was someone standing by the gate. On first glance, they seemed to be a foreigner, like myself. Male, late twenties, probably European. A bag over his shoulder. His hair was a very meek and mousy brown, though his eyes were a more pleasant shade of green.

On second glance, I noticed he was extremely nervous. The man kept on looking left, right, behind them, everywhere; he couldn't seem to keep his gaze still. Though he wore a thick coat, the way he was rapidly and roughly scratching his arm with one hand made me wonder if the skin beneath had been rubbed raw.

"…Hello?" I called uncertainly. The sound of my voice made him jump.

"W-What?" He responded, not in Japanese, but in English.

"Can I help you?" I switched my language to match his.

He turned for a moment, as if he was going to walk away, then turned back to me.

"A-Are you John Brown?" He asked tentatively.

Cautiously, I took a step towards the door. "Who wants to know?"

He pursed his lips, and strode quickly forwards.

"I need your help." From the sound of his accent, I would say he was from Ireland. "I need you to hold onto something for me."

Before I could respond, he pulled something out of his bag, and pressed it into my hands.

It was heavy, whatever it was. It had been wrapped up several times in brown paper, but even through the layers, it felt unusually cold in my hands. The chill managed to seep through the layers and sting my skin, sapping at the remaining warmth from my palms.

"Uh, I'm sorry, what is this?" I asked, slightly bewildered.

"Do not give it to anyone." He stressed suddenly, his voice taking on a desperate edge. "Do not tell anyone about it. No one."

"Who are you?"

He ignored my question, instead choosing to search through his bag again. This time, he took out some kind of taping device or recorder.

"This, too. Look after it. Don't let anyone take it."

With that, he turned around, and headed towards the gate.

"Wait! Who are you?" I called after him. "What's going on?"

Again, my question went unanswered. The man slipped through the gate, allowing it to clang a final time.

For a moment, I almost decided to run after him. However, perhaps against my better judgement, I decided against it. To be honest, I am surprised I didn't dispose of the items in my hands immediately, without even checking what they were. The whole situation should have reeked of danger. Maybe it did. Maybe something inside me began to nag at me, whispering in my ear to walk away now, to stay away from the situation. But maybe I was just so used to pushing down those thoughts, I completely ignored it.

Instead, I turned, and walked inside.


	3. Chapter 3: An Announcement

**(A/N): When I compare the beginning chapters of my story to the later ones, I realise they are often a lot shorter. This one is quite short, but they do tend to get longer (and sometimes they get REALLY long) so I'm certain the chapters in this story will reach their normal length of around 3,000-6,000 words later on.**

**Half-term is coming up, thank goodness. I have just been too tired recently. Also, I will be able to do more writing than normal (although I will still have to revise).**

**Again, thank you for waiting for this story to be uploaded, and I'm very sorry the second chapter took so long to upload. I'll try and update on a regular basis if I can now (about one chapter per week, two if we're lucky).**

**Thank you very much for reading this story, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

A soft, gentle whirring. A click. Then a small symphony of background noise. When it quietened down, a voice began to speak.

_"…__The date is 1__st __August__ 2014\. The time is 14:17."_ A woman's voice, firm and even, spoke out from the tape recorder that I held in my hand as I listened curiously, sitting on a sofa. Outside the window, the gale was screaming loudly, crashing itself against the panes in some desperate attempt to drown out the voice of the recorder. Within a few minutes of arriving home, the sky had already become dark and overcast. Soon, torrents of rain were lashing down on the glass, transforming the view of outside into nothing more than a watery blur of shapes and shadows.

I had not opened the item wrapped in brown packaging yet; it remained untouched, on the table. Part of me still wondered if I really should have kept the package and the tape recorder, but it had been overruled by my curiosity. Ever since the previous year, the phrase 'curiosity killed the cat' had stuck with me, and was constantly on my mind. In fact, feelings of anxiety and panic had been much more prominent in me after spring, and it took me a while to get rid of the feelings of dread whenever I went into a big crowd, or to shake the unnerving sensation of worry when I walked down the street if a person stopped and stared at my blatantly foreign appearance. Frequently, I would think I was being followed or stalked again, and begin to panic, but those fears didn't have such a powerful grip over me any more. Maybe it was because of that, because of my determination to bury those anxious feelings, that I let my curiosity control my actions as I listened to the tape recorder.

_"__This is Sandra Perkins speaking, archaeologist."_ The language of the speaker was accented English, which made me wonder if English wasn't her first language. Regardless, her pronunciation was a lot better than my Japanese articulation.

_"__Two weeks ago, my sister passed away. Heart attack._" She paused for a little while, but when she spoke up again, she still retained the firmness to her voice. _"…Recently, I went back to our old family house in Mombasa to help sort through her possessions, when I found something of interest."_ She stopped again, and rustled around for something. _"…I found a lot of notes she made about some kind of artefact. There are pictures here, and lots of reports and accounts about it."_

I paused the recorder, and slowly leant over to the table, taking the heavy item in my hands. Carefully, I unwrapped it, and pressed play.

_"…__I think it's some kind of…box. But one for holding scrolls, or paintings, perhaps. There appears to __be some kind of lock or clasp on the top, maybe a type of sliding puzzle.__ I can't say for sure. It's covered in various runes. I don't recognise the inscriptions, though if I had to guess, I'd say they were Nordic, perhaps. There are carvings, too, all interlacing with each other. I'm no expert in European history, but I think it's either Norse or Celtic, or sometime between those two eras. It's made out of old metal – very old metal. Bronze, perhaps. The original colour was probably gold or brown, but it's been very tarnished, from the looks of the picture."_

I looked down at the item in my hands. It was a perfect description: tarnished, covered in intertwining runs and carvings, with that strange clasp at the top. It was cylindrical in shape, and relatively long. As I held it in my hands, it felt as if the metal would chip and peel off by my simple touch. Even in the warmth of my apartment room, it was still as cold as a corpse, and was almost painful to hold.

_"__From all the notes, it seems like my sister must have come across it, or was looking for it, at least. I don't know why, though. And the notes…I found them in a place where we used to hide as children. Only we knew about it. She went through pains to hide them there. But why? Something about it must have scared her. I never heard her talk about it. European history isn't even her area, nor is it mine. We both focus on Swahili__ history, so I have no idea what she was doing investigating an old Nordic or Celtic artefact. This can only mean one thing. Whatever she found out was important. Therefore, I've decided to take it upon myself to find this artefact, and understand why it was so important to my sister. Something must have driven her to do this, and I want to know why."_

The recording clicked, beeped, and came to an end.

I looked down at the artefact I had unwrapped. There was no doubt it was the same one as described by Sandra Perkins on the recording. But why had that man given it to me? And what was its significance?

* * *

It was a thought that played in my head even the next morning. The man from yesterday stressed to me that I wasn't to tell of the item's existence to anyone. Why? What was so important about it that I needed to keep it a secret?

Stifling a yawn, I decided to flick through some channels, tired from a poor night's sleep, and after a while, I settle with the news. At first, nothing of particular interest was reported – sporting events, politicians and house prices – and I almost changed the channel. However, the report was quickly changed to a different scene.

A woman was standing on a podium, surrounded by a swarm of people holding microphones and flashing cameras. Two police officers stood to either side of her.

"…I am reaching out to the public to help find the location of a missing person." She was Japanese, with a solemn and professional presence. "A week ago, a man by the name of Dara Brennan went missing from his hotel room in Osaka. Police have reason to believe he was abducted."

An image appeared on the screen of a foreign man with meek brown hair and bright green eyes. I almost dropped the remote.

"If you have seen this man, or know anything of his whereabouts, please report it immediately to the police. It is vital that his location is discovered as quickly as possible. We thank you for your co-operation."

That man on the screen…

He was the man from yesterday. The man who had given me the tape recorder and the old relic from Sandra Perkin's notes.

He had gone missing a week ago?

More importantly, he had been abducted?


	4. Chapter 4: A Discussion

**(A/N): I'm sorry I've been a little slow on updating (I still need to upload Sea, Sand and Murder, too.)**

**For this chapter, I'm trying out the long page breaks. I think it's easier to read something when there are page breaks (and archangelBBQ rightly pointed out that it makes it a lot easier when there are changes in perspective) and though I find the huge long page breaks they give you on a little annoying, it's better than nothing, especially since it always eats any other page break that I try to use (like dashes).**

**Oh yeah, in case you forgot (I did and had to look up the name) Rokoryo High School is the one Yasuhara went to in the Forbidden Pastime arch.**

**Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

"You actually showed up."

I looked sheepishly at the floor, biting my lip. "Y-Yeah."

My therapist, sitting opposite me, gave me a questioning look. "You've cancelled the past three sessions. Have you been busy?"

I scratched my arm nervously. "There were some incidents at the orphanage that I needed to sort out." After the Mattaku incident, I hadn't been able to bear going back to the hospital where I used to work. In the end, I had quit my job, and instead became more involved at Father Toujou's child care centre.

"What sorts of incidents?"

"A child that was often sent to the child care has been taken away from her family. We found out that her parents were abusive. It was quite a complicated situation."

"I see." The therapist paused to write something down. "…How have you been recently?"

"…In what way?"

"How are you dealing with your anxiety?"

"Well…the nightmares aren't as frequent, and it's been a while since I had a really bad panic attack." I hesitated suddenly.

The therapist watched me. "…But?"

I sighed, staring down at my hands. Absent-mindedly, I pulled up my sleeve, and ran my finger along the scar that ran horizontally down my arm.

"…You know that…I've been somewhat of a recluse recently." I began.

"Yes."

"I…I guess I've been scared. Of pulling myself into another situation like Mattaku. It's not as bad as it used to be now – I can walk outside without being terrified – but…" My words fell away.

My therapist waited expectantly. "…Yes?"

"…I want to go back to my other work, but I'm scared to. And something has come up that I really need to consult them about, but…I still have those fears of something bad happening."

"When you say 'your other work', you are referring to Shibuya Psychic Research, yes?"

I nodded. "It's not like I've withdrawn from talking to them, but it's been a long time since I last took a case with them. And this time, I really feel like I should talk to them about something that happened to me recently. But I'm scared to."

The therapist, after writing a quick note, put down her file and pen. "The way I see it, you used to be trapped, Brown-san. You were too scared of a repeat of what happened to you in spring last year, so you withdrew yourself from the world. Now you've been opening up, and that's good. You're doing well. But it might be time to take another step forwards."

I swallowed nervously as she continued. "Whatever the problem is you mentioned, I think you should discuss it with Shibuya Psychic Research. You've only reached as far as you have by taking chances, so take this one. Remember, the intensity and scale of what happened to you in the Mattaku incident is a rare occurrence. The likelihood of something similar happening again is very low. If you want to return to your work with Shibuya Psychic Research, you need to try and let go of these fears."

I nodded, her words uncomfortably true. "…Ok. I'll talk to them."

* * *

"…I see. This does seem to be a difficult situation."

Kazuya sat opposite me, his legs crossed and his brow furrowed as he thought deeply about what I had told him. Today, the office was very empty. Only Lin, typing away at a computer, and Mai, who had just brought tea, were present.

After my therapy appointment, I had decided to visit the SPR office and consult Kazuya on what to do about the missing man who had given me the artefact. I had already tried to phone my cousin, Sinead, who had ties with the police. However, she did not pick up – I could vaguely remember her mentioning she had a job in Nigeria, so that made sense.

"I don't know what to do." I pursed my lips. "I'll report his presence at my apartment to the police, but…" I thought back to his words. "…He seemed desperate to make sure I didn't give that old relic to anyone. If I told the police, they would take it away. And…I have a bad feeling about that thing."

Kazuya seemed to catch on to what I was saying. "You think that there might be some link with spirits and this artefact?"

I nodded. "I just can't think of another reason why he would come to me, unless spirits were involved in some way. And, if that's the case, I don't think it would be safe to give it to the police."

Kazuya remained quiet as he considered this.

"…I think it might be a good idea to keep the existence of this artefact secret to the police for the time being." Kazuya agreed. "May I see it?"

"Sure." Carefully, my gloves still on, I took it out of my bag. I had wrapped it up in a tea towel, and uncovered it partially before handing it to Kazuya.

Taking it from me, Kazuya examined it thoroughly, making sure not to touch it directly.

"…Do you know what it is?" He asked, observing the relic curiously.

"I don't know." I admitted. "Actually, I was hoping you could help clear that up for me."

"And this tape recorder…do you have it on you?"

"Yes." I passed it to him. "I haven't listened to all of it yet. I've only heard the first input."

"And the speaker is Sandra Perkins?"

"Yes." I confirmed. "She said on the tape she was an archaeologist based in Kenya."

Mai sat down next to me. "So, that artefact thing…you have no idea what it is?"

"Sandra Perkins said on the tape she thought it was a box of some kind. One for holing scrolls or something."

"Huh." Mai peered at it. "It doesn't really look like a box. Kind of weird shaped, isn't it?"

Mai was right. It was very oddly shaped – more like a tube than a box – so it made sense if it was designed to hold scrolls or something of a similar nature.

"I'm no expert, but from an amateur's guess, I would say it's Nordic, perhaps." Kazuya decided, then frowned. "Do you know what this is?" He pointed to the strange clasp on the top.

"I think it's a lock of some sort. I haven't been able to open it because of that thing." The clasp was wide and relatively thick, and didn't have a visible key hole. Instead, it was made up of what seemed to be many sliding discs and beads, with patterns of faded gold running along each part.

"I think you might be right." Kazuya murmured, examining the mechanism more closely. "It's very complex."

"Do you think you can open it?" Mai asked excitedly. Kazuya considered this for a moment.

"Honestly, I can't say. Archaeology isn't really my forte. Even so, I'd like to contact Hara-san and the others and gain their opinion on it before we start trying to open it. I want to know if there are any spirits surrounding it before attempting anything like that."

"Oh…" Mai sounded a little disappointed, but it was a wise decision from Kazuya. It was dangerous to fool around with possibly powerful objects that we didn't know about – the case by the hotel and at Rokoryo High School had taught us that much.

"You haven't told anyone else about this, have you?" Kazuya asked.

I shook my head. "Only you."

"Good. I think we should keep this a secret. Whatever this artefact is, it clearly isn't just a simple relic. There's something not quite right about this situation, and until we find out what it is, I'm reluctant to start disclosing this information to the police. Will you be going over there now?"

I nodded. "I plan to. Can you look after the artefact for me while I go?"

"Of course. I assume Bou-san will take you over?"

"Yes." I had rung him earlier to ask him if he could drive me over there; I still didn't have a driver's licence.

"Do you want some tea before you go?" Mai asked, as Kazuya carefully wrapped the artefact up and walked over to his office. I assumed he was going to put it somewhere safe.

It had been a long time since I had heard her say that. "Sorry, but I better go now."

Smiling, Mai walked with me as I headed to the door. "It's been a while since I've seen you here."

"That's true." Though I had been keeping in contact with all member of SPR, I hadn't been to the actual office itself for a while, or taken on any cases.

"Do you think you'll take on cases with us again?"

I hesitated. It had been a sensitive issue for me for a long time. Immediately, Mai seemed to sense that.

"W-Well…there's no rush. I know that you haven't done an exorcism for a while. I understand that."

I smiled weakly. "It's not that I don't want to take on cases…I do. It's just…been taking a while to get back into the swing of things again." The fact was, I hadn't done a single exorcism after the Mattaku incident. It wasn't just because of the mental problems I had been grappling with for a long time amidst the trials and witness statements. It was after I had been forced to cleanse the spirit of the person I had loved. Ever since, I had been too scared to attempt any more exorcisms.

"Really, though, don't rush yourself." She patted my arm. "Whatever you do, you know that we'll support you. Oh," she leant forwards and whispered cautiously,

"Just be careful of Naru-kun. Recently, he's been in a really bad mood." She paused. "Actually, nothing's really changed then, has it?"

I laughed. "I guess you could say that."

The thought of having to attempt an exorcism again terrified me. It would take a while to change that. But being back at SPR…I had missed it, a lot. And despite the uncertainty that faced us in this strange case, I couldn't deny that I was looking forward to working with them again.


	5. Chapter 5: A Warning

**(A/N): I'm sorry for taking so long to upload this chapter. I just had an awful practical exam in chemistry - it was so stressful!**

**I still have to do the theory paper...*cries***

**I can't wait for the Easter holidays, but at the same time, I'm dreading them because it means exams will come closer.**

**I've been trying to read Akumu No Sumu Ie, and John has finally been introduced. I was really happy. (I think her art style has improved somewhat since the first few mangas, though I thought it was at it's best in mangas 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9. The manga of No. 6 has a _very_ nice art style (I love Inukashi.))**

**I'll try and upload as soon as I can. I have the next chapter written, so it won't take long.**

**Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

I clicked a button, and the recording began to whir quietly. There was a pause, before someone spoke up.

"_The date is 6__th__ August. The time is 16:32. This is Sandra Perkins, archaeologist."_ It was the same speaker from yesterday. _"Over the past few days, I have been consulting my colleagues in the archaeological community about the picture I found at my sister's house a week ago."_

Having talked to Kazuya, I had decided to contact the police about the missing man's brief conversation with me the day before. Now, I was sitting in Houshou's car, listening to the recording as he drove me there.

"_So far, no one seems to know anything about it. Or at least, that is what they're telling me."_ She hesitated_. "Somehow, I have a feeling that they know more than they're letting on. I have consulted many experts on Norse history about it, yet they fail to tell me a single detail. They even seem unable to estimate when the relic could have been made, or explain any of the designs to me. __The__ir reaction makes me uneasy. I don't think they're completely clueless about it. They know something. They just seem reluctant to tell me." _Again, she paused, but when she spoke up again, there was a clear undertone of worry in her voice. _"If anything, I think they're scared. But of what?"_

I paused the recording, and looked over to Houshou. "What do you think?" I asked. To be quick, I had translated the recording to him, since I knew English was not one of Houshou's stronger languages.

During the spring incident, I had somehow ended up dragging Houshou deep into the situation. We had both been attacked, shot at, and almost killed several times, and our friendship had been put under strain, too. The part of me that whispered insecurities in my ear wondered if, after the hellish nightmare was over, he would walk away from our friendship and want nothing to do with me. However, he had not. Instead, he had stuck with me, even at the roughest of times. He was someone I would trust with my life, and I knew that if he had not helped me last year, I certainly wouldn't be here now.

"Well, it sounds very ominous, I'll say that." Houshou admitted. "I mean, a random person gives you a mysterious artefact that no one can figure out what it is, and then an archaeologist on a tape recorder goes on to describe about how everyone seemed to be scared of said mysterious artefact. It seems pretty sinister to me."

I nodded thoughtfully. "It does. The sooner we figure out what to do with it, the better."

Houshou pulled up the car outside the police station. I had been to the building many times, so it was no longer new or intimidating to me. However, I had the feeling that many of the officers present weren't exactly fond of either myself or anyone at SPR; it had been because of us that a full-scale inquiry was undertaken into police corruption.

"Do you think spirits have something to do with it, then?" Houshou asked as he straightened the car. "And that's why we'll be investigating it?"

"Yeah. There isn't really any other reason I can think of why Dara Brennan would give it to me."

Frowning, Houshou turned to me. "Are you concerned?"

"Hm?"

"If you ask me, the whole situation sounds…ominous. You know? After last year, I'm just…surprised that you're so willing to jump into this."

I understood what he meant. "I know. And I agree." I admitted. "It does sound a little sinister. But we can't really ignore it now, can we? Besides," I touched my upper back uncomfortably, "this job – our job – involves having to take these risks. Investigating strange incidents. Even if they're sinister."

"I guess that's true. But…" He leant against the head rest. "How do you feel about it?"

"Well, I'm scared, but…" I trailed off momentarily. "…I just…I want to be able to live like I used to. And to get to that stage, I need to push myself, I guess."

He leant over, putting his hand on the side of my head. "I understand, but don't push yourself too hard, ok? We're all going to be there to support you, you know that, but there's no point ruining all the hard work you've done now."

I smiled. "I don't plan to. I'm still a little scared about taking on a case like this again. But…if I can get myself back into a routine like this, doing cases again…I'll be really happy."

He grinned. "We'll definitely be happy, too." Then he looked at the time. "It's almost 4 o'clock. I'll stay here."

We had gotten into the habit of, whenever we took the care out somewhere, one person would stay in the car if it was possible. During the Mattaku incident, there had been a lot of 'car accidents' involving failed brakes. The situation was long over now, but there had been a lot of pressure during the trials, not to mention the possibility of a criminal organisation getting involved. R.M had been the funders, to put it one way, of the Mattaku Psychiatric Ward, and if there was any chance they might get involved, we needed to stay alert at all times, and that vigilance hadn't fully eased yet.

"Ok. I'll see you soon."

* * *

Inside, I was immediately taken to the questioning room. By now, I was so used to the procedures, I could have found the way myself without being directed, and I was accustomed to the various stares from the police officers.

Today, I was surprised – normally, I was left waiting for a long time before I was actually visited by a police officer, but this time, they were unusually quick in seeing me. I had only been in there for a minute or so, instead of ten minutes, before two police officers entered the room. Both wore suits, and had an ambience of authority and professionalism. For the first time, I felt a little nervous.

One of them, a woman, sat down at the table, taking out a note pad and a pen. The other, a man, sat next to her, and observed me with disdain.

"Your name is John Brown." The woman stated, not needing to actually ask. "I am Superintendent Arisa Hisakawa." Probably middle-aged, her hair was tied up, and her face was sharp and observant. The more I looked at her, the more I felt I recognised her.

"Oh. The one from the Mattaku incident." The next to speak was the man, who was probably in his fifties. His entire appearance was impeccable; not a strand of hair was out of place, and his attire was so neat, it felt disconcertingly unnatural and false. Clear dislike was evident in his voice.

"Yes." Nervously, I avoided looking at him in the eye.

"This is Chief Superintendent Makoto Igarashi." Hisakawa introduced him. Now, my anxiety had increased. Why was I being questioned by two such high ranking officers, who normally would have no involvement in matters like this? This was very strange.

"Now, could you tell us about what you saw?" Hisakawa, in comparison to Igarashi, kept a neutral, detached and somewhat cold voice when she spoke to me. Suddenly, I realised where I had seen her before – she was the officer who had spoken on the news report, talking about the disappearance of the man.

"Y-Yes. I had just been out that morning, and I had arrived back at my apartment. I was about to go inside, when that man – Dara Brennan, was it? – he was there. He asked me for directions. Then he left. He looked a little nervous. He was scratching his arm badly, too. The next day, I saw the report on the news."

The woman wrote this down. My account had been rather brief, but I had tried to include everything I could without actually mentioning the artefact. I could not rid myself of the intense feeling that I was being carefully scrutinised, and my words examined thoroughly. My unease must have shown.

"Is there something wrong?" Igarashi pounced on my nervousness immediately.

"N-No. I just wonder why he went missing."

Hisakawa closed her note pad. "That is nothing to trouble yourself with." She reached into her bag, and pulled out a paper-backed file. Opening it, she unclipped a sheet of paper, and pushed it in front of me.

"Does this item mean anything to you?" She asked.

I stared at the image. The artefact was displayed there, dirty and tarnished like when it had been given to me. Immediately, I tried to control my posture and expression, fighting the anxiety that was racing inside me. Under the table, I tried to keep my hands still, and I swallowed slightly.

"No. What is it?" Somehow, the words managed to come out my mouth without being mangled by my nerves. Both of the officers stared at me for a moment, trying to discern if my apparent bemusement was genuine or not.

"…Never mind." Hisakawa stood up, and I tried not to sigh a breath of relief. "Thank you for your time."

As soon as I managed to get outside, I felt a tense weight from my chest lift. What would they have done if they had realised I had been given that artefact? Why was it so important anyway? Why were the police interested in it?

Shakily, I found Houshou's car, and got back inside. Houshou looked at me with concern.

"Are you alright?" He asked, putting on his seat belt.

"Yeah. It was just a little intense." I explained briefly, quickly plugging in my own seatbelt. "There were some very high-up police officers interviewing me."

"Really?" Houshou sounded surprised, as he started up the engine. "That's strange. Why were they so interested?"

"I don't know. But they knew about that artefact."

Houshou froze and stared at me. "What?"

"They showed me a picture of it, and asked me if I knew what it was. I said I didn't know, and they let me go, but I'm not entirely sure if they believed me or not."

Houshou passed me the tape recorder, and began to reverse. "I don't like the sound of this. I really don't.

"Me neither." Distractedly, I pressed play on the tape recorder, where I had just finished off the previous recording.

"…_The date is 6__th__ April. The time is 19:56. This is Sandra Perkins. I am still struggling to find any leads on the artefact."_

We listened in interest. _"I have just spoken to Professor __Ólafur__dóttir__, one of the leading experts in Nordic history. She could not tell me anything useful, and our exchange was brief. Having spoken to most of those in the society of archaeologists who are involved in Nordic history, I feel like I have nothing new to go on now. What can I…"_

She paused. A ringing noise had started to sound.

"_I'm being rung from the professor."_

There was a beep as she accepted the call.

"_Hello, this is Sandra Perkins speaking."_

"_Sandra Perkins?"_ She must have put the call on loudspeaker. "_You…you're that archaeologist that Professor __Ólafur__dóttir__ was talking to, right?" _The speaker spoke in English, like she did, but he had an accent – if I had to guess, I would have said some sort of Scandinavian language.

"_Yes. Who is this?"_

"_A-Ah, yes. I'm Barði __Arnmóðurson__. I work for the professor. I_…" He sounded nervous.

"_Is there something wrong?"_

"…_Yes. Well…I overheard that you were…wondering around about a certain artefact."_

Sandra paused. _"…I was."_

"_I only heard the description you gave, but…I really think that you should stop looking into it."_

I shared a concerned frown with Houshou.

"_I'm sorry?"_ Sandra asked, her voice masked to hide the suspicion she had probably felt.

"_I'm not trying to spite you. I just really don't think you should look into it. You focus on east African history, don't you? Swahili history?"_

"_Yes, but –"_

"_Well, I think that this is something you should give up. You don't want to risk it."_

Sandra didn't reply, and a moment of silence ensued between them.

"…_I'm saying this as a warning. I hope you listen to it. And I ask you to tell no one about this conversation."_

"…_Of course. Thank you for your time, Barði __Arnmóðurson__."_

"_It was a pleasure."_

There was a beep as the phone was hung up. Sandra sighed heavily.

"…_This is not sounding good_."

The recording ended. I lowered the tape recorder slowly.

"I don't like the sound of this." Houshou spoke up. "This is bad. What is the deal with this stupid artefact?"

The feeling of unease was rapidly returning to me. "I don't know. The sooner we sort this thing out, the better."

"You've got that right." Houshou agreed darkly, as he began to pull the car out.

As soon as he had reversed, he began to slowly accelerate as I carefully placed the tape recorder back into my bag. Suddenly, he slammed down on the brakes, jolting us both forwards.

"What the –" He angrily got out of the car. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Nervously, I opened the car door and stepped out. A woman was standing in front of the car bonnet.

"Why did you walk out in front of the car like that? And stop?" Houshou demanded.

"Calm down, Houshou." I tugged on his sleeve, and he stepped down. I turned to the woman.

"Are you alright? Did we hit you?"

The woman, who had not looked phased by Houshou, did not reply to my question. Instead, she pulled her red coat closer to her.

"I wanted you to stop." Though she looked foreign, her Japanese was perfect. "I want to talk to you."

Now, I stepped back a little, wary. "I'm sorry?" Houshou stood by me, his arm across me in a protective manner. It was an automatic reaction now.

"You're investigating that artefact, aren't you?"

Houshou and I both froze. Our shock seemed to confirm her question.

"…I see. I came here to warn you." She looked over her shoulder briefly. "That artefact is bad news. Trust me."

"Bad news? What do you know about it?" I asked cautiously.

"Not a lot. But enough." With that, she turned and began to walk away. She called over her shoulder.

"I'm telling you, stop investigating it. Give it up. You'll thank me later."

Soon, she had left the car park, exiting almost as swiftly as she had appeared, leaving Houshou and I standing in the cold with her warning echoing in our minds.


	6. Chapter 6: Unbreakable

**(A/N): I am very, very, very sorry for the delayed update. Exams are coming, and I've had a lot of school work and revision to do. Now that I am in the Easter Holidays, I will have more time to upload, but I am very, very, very sorry for keeping you waiting.**

**(I'm falling behind in my uploading schedules for both my stories - eek)**

**If I had ESP, I would use it for loads of things - and probably a load of pointless things just because I could, to be honest.**

**The sciences are hard. Really, really, hard. There's so much to learn *cries***

**Thank you very much for reading this story, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

"What's the deal with this thing?!"

Mai stared at the artefact, outraged. Everyone stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking down on the relic. It was still tarnished, cold and, most importantly, perfectly intact, despite the fact that Mai had thrown it down the stairs.

"You know," Masako leant over, peering at it closely, "if Naru-kun finds out you tossed this down the stairs, he'll kill you."

"Well, he won't know. Because it's still intact." Mai pointed out.

Kazuya and Lin had left the office temporarily, looking for the current whereabouts of the speaker, Sandra Perkins, and had invited everyone else to investigate the artefact.

The first to arrive was Masako. As soon as she entered the room, before she could even utter a greeting, she froze. Her gaze was drawn immediately to the artefact. Involuntarily, she shivered, then approached it warily. Outside, although there was no rain, it was a still and breathless day. The air itself seemed to be waiting uncertainly.

"…What is this?" She asked quietly. Her demeanour and voice was calm, but her troubled expression worried me.

"I wish we knew." Houshou sighed, his gaze also fixed on the old relic. Even I couldn't help but find myself staring at it, wondering what it was and why it had interested the police.

Only Mai seemed unphased by it. "What do you sense? Any ghosts?"

Masako shook her head. Before we could voice our surprise, she explained herself. "There are no spirits surrounding that item. However, it has been marked with another presence. It is…" She struggled to articulate her thoughts. "…You remember the hitogatas at Yubusa High School, do you not?"

"Oh, yeah, the ones that Ubusuna-sensei used to curse people?" Mai remembered.

"Yes. They gave off a…presence similar to this one, except a lot weaker. The only way I could really sense it was when we gathered them into a large group. However, this item…it gives off the same presence, but far, far stronger. I think even you all might be able to sense it."

"Hmmm…" Inquisitively, Mai picked up the artefact. "Well, it does feel really cold all the time. Is that what you mean?"

"Yes. And I assume it can't be warmed up."

"No. I spilt hot coffee on it earlier, and it didn't even warm up a little. Or stain, for that matter." She spoke without remorse. It was a good job Kazuya wasn't here.

"Hey…" Something occurred to me, and it made my blood run cold. "If this artefact emits the same type of presence as the hitogatas, does that mean it's cursed, too?"

Masako replied coolly. "Probably."

Mai yelped, and dropped the artefact. It clattered to the floor.

"W-Why didn't you tell me before I picked it up?!" Mai exclaimed, outraged. "What if _I've_ been cursed now?!"

"Mai-kun, you haven't been cursed." Masako told her bluntly.

Regardless, Mai looked disgruntled, and nudged the artefact with her foot.

"Mai-kun, be careful with it!" Exasperated, Houshou bent to pick it up. However, his worries had been needless. The artefact was still intact.

"Huh." He examined it gingerly. "For something so old, it's in pretty good condition, what with being dropped and having coffee spilt on it."

"I doubt it can be so easily destroyed." Masako informed him. "I don't know how much force it would take to destroy it, but I think it would need a lot more than that. Lin-san probably has a better idea than I do. He's more of an expert on curses."

Interested now, Mai took the artefact from Houshou, much to his protest. He probably didn't trust her to hold it anymore. "What kind of force are we talking here? If I stood on it, what would happen?"

Houshou and I looked at each other in alarm.

Masako shrugged. "I don't know."

In one swift movement, Mai threw the artefact onto the floor, then stomped on it, hard.

"Mai-kun! What the hell are you doing?!" Houshou hissed.

Mai regarded the artefact with disappointment, ignoring him. "Oh. Nothing happened."

With a glint in her eye, she picked it up and threw it at the wall.

"Mai-kun, no!"

However, once again, the relic hadn't even dented. It had managed to chip away some of the paint from the wall, though.

"Tsch. This is trickier than I anticipated." Mai tossed the item from hand and hand, considering what her next choice of action should be.

"Mai-kun, stop!" Houshou tried to snatch it from her, but she evaded him, and ran out the door. We heard a series of loud thumps.

And that's how we ended up at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the incredulously unbroken artefact.

"I'm surprised." Mai folded her arms, looking thoughtful. "That's a lot of flights it just came down. You'd think, at least, a little bit would have chipped off. But it's completely fine."

"I told you, it's not going to be destroyed that easily." Masako repeated herself.

"How about we throw it out the window?" Mai suggested.

Quickly, before Mai could try any more of her experiments, Houshou snatched it up.

"How about we stop before Naru-kun kills us?"

"Still. It's just an old artefact. Why is it so indestructible?"

"Maybe to protect whatever is inside? It looks like some sort of container to me." I suggested. That would certainly be a reason to keep it bizarrely indestructible.

"…What if it's to stop other people from breaking it open, and getting whatever's inside?" Houshou spoke up suddenly. "Why go through all the effort otherwise?"

Masako considered this thoughtfully. "Well, it would explain that strange lock on the front." She gestured to it. "I imagine it's very difficult to open."

Mai scoffed. "Please. I bet I can get that thing open. Easy."

The lock was near impossible to open. Each of us tried, but none of us could open the tube. The sliding puzzle on the top, which was part of the lock, was both very small and very complicated. Despite our best efforts, it remained a mess of golden lines that didn't make up any sort of pattern or shape, and it only seemed as if we had further jumbled up the golden sliding pieces.

"Ok. I admit defeat." Mai sat on the sofa, dejected. "I can't do it."

"I think we've made it worse." Houshou commented with a frown, his arm around my shoulder. "Naru-kun is going to kill us."

We all sat in silence while we thought about this.

"I know!" Mai suddenly sat upright. "We'll hide it back in his draw with the false base and just not tell him we took it out!"

"What do you mean?" I asked. Houshou narrowed his eyes.

"Mai-kun…" He looked at her suspiciously. "Do you mean…he had hidden away, and you took it out?"

She shrugged sheepishly. "What? It's not like he hid it very well if I could find it."

"Mai-kun, you have ESP." Masako sighed. "You find _everything_."

Despite Masako's incensed tone, Mai looked proud. "I know, I _do_ find everything, don't I?"

"Mai, put it back now." Houshou gave her a look. Sighing, Mai stood up, holding up her hands in surrender.

"Fine, fine, I'll put it back." She walked back to Kazuya's desk, glancing out of the window as she went by.

"Crap!" She hissed, and broke into a run, dashing into his desk. We watched her curiously as she flustered about, opening drawers frantically, before dashing back and throwing herself onto the sofa, smoothing out her hair and trying to look relaxed. A second later, the door opened, and Kazuya walked into the room, closely followed by Lin and Ayako. Immediately, he stopped, and stared at Mai, who was trying to look inconspicuous by staring innocently out of the window. Then she glanced at Kazuya.

"Oh, Naru-kun! You're back!"

"…What have you done now?"

Gasping, she pulled an affronted face. "What?! You're only just through the door and you're accusing me already?!"

"You looked at the artefact, didn't you?"

"No I didn't!"

He sighed. "I didn't want you to take it out until I got back. And I told you to stop using your ESP so flippantly. Bou-san, please fill Matsuzaki-san in on the situation."

Ayako sidled over to us, her heels clacking against the floor. "Are you having another lover's tiff, Mai-kun?"

I expected Mai to respond angrily, or at least be flustered in some way, but instead, she sighed wistfully.

"I wish." I remembered the difficult situation between her and Kazuya – with Mai confessing her love and Kazuya rejecting her, not to mention the love triangle between the two of them and Masako. It seemed, though, that Mai and Kazuya still bickered like they normally did, in the way that both created sparks on tension on occasions, yet was also rather intimate.

"I have no idea why the two of you fell for such a difficult man." She sat down beside them. "It would have been a lot easier if you'd gone for someone with a nicer personality."

"Tell me about it." Mai pouted.

"It is a daily struggle." Masako agreed.

"What about you two love birds?" She referred to me and Houshou. I didn't quite understand what she meant by that. "How have you been, John-kun? Naru-kun isn't overworking you already, is he?"

"No, no. Actually, I asked him for help."

"Well, it's good to see you back." She gestured to Kazuya. "He's been in a foul mood. What's the matter with him?"

"I think he's just been bored." Mai guessed. "He hasn't had a good case in ages."

"That's none of your concern." Kazuya must have heard us talking about him. He was hanging up his coat, and his tone was icy. "Are you here to gossip or here to work?"

Ayako scowled at him. "…Alright." She turned back to us. "Tell me what this is about."

As Kazuya walked over to his desk with Lin, it suddenly occurred to me that I should tell him about what happened at the police station. While the others talked to Ayako, I hurried over to him.

"Oh, Shibuya-san." I stood behind the desk where he sat.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. It's just…when I went to be questioned at the police station, a few unusual incidents occurred."

He frowned. "Sit down. We'll talk."

I did as he said. Frowning, he checked his drawer, rummaging around in what I assumed was the compartment hidden by a false base, like Mai had told us.

"…She found it, didn't she?" He scowled.

"U-Uh…"

Sighing, he faced me. "Never mind. Tell me about your visit to the police station."

"Right." Where to begin? "Well, I was interviewed by two very high ranking officers. One of them gave out the missing person's report on the news."

Kazuya frowned. "Really?"

"Yeah. One was superintendent, the other was chief superintendent. I've never been interviewed by officers of such high calibre before."

Quickly, Kazuya took out a note pad. "What were their names?" He was certainly being thorough.

"Um… Arisa Hisakawa and Makoto Igarashi."

He wrote this down. "Did they say anything strange?"

"Well, they were watching me very carefully the whole way through. Then they showed me a picture of the artefact."

Kazuya showed no surprise, and only closed his eyes in thought. "…Really?"

"Mmhm. They asked me if I had seen it before. They were definitely observing me closely when I replied. Then they let me go."

"…This is interesting…"

"There's more. When Houshou and I were leaving, a woman walked out in front of the car. We didn't hit her, but when we got out and spoke to her, she knew we were investigating the artefact."

Kazuya furrowed his brow, troubled. "…Did she tell you what it was?"

I shook my head. "But she told us that we should stop investigating. And that it's bad news."

Kazuya seemed to mull this over in his head for a bit. Then he stood up, and walked past me.

"Shibuya-san?" I called after him. "Is everything alright?"

He stood in front of the others. Immediately, everyone stopped talking, noticing the seriousness of his demeanour.

"Hara-san." He addressed her. "What can you tell me about the artefact?"

She hid her mouth behind her kimono sleeve. "There are no spirits surrounding it…I would say that it is similar to a cursed object, except the presence is a lot stronger than that of a normal hitogata."

"Do you mean the box? Or what is inside?"

Masako paused. "…That is hard to tell. Actually, I was hoping you would have a better opinion than I would, Lin-san. You are more versed in the knowledge of curses than I am."

Lin hesitated, then went to Kazuya's desk, retrieving the artefact from the drawer. Handling it carefully, he placed it down on the coffee table, and examined it carefully.

"It doesn't look particularly impressive." Ayako remarked.

"You'd be surprised." Mai whispered back. "I threw it down the stairs and it didn't even get a single scratch or dent."

"What was that, Mai-san?" Kazuya called over.

"Nothing!"

Lin raised his hand for silence, preventing Kazuya from shouting at Mai. He cautiously picked up the item in his hands, checking the strange sliding puzzle, turning it over and over.

"…You said you threw it down the stairs?" He asked. His tone was just as indifferent as it normally was, but from knowing him for so long, I could just pick up the incredulous intonation to his voice.

"U-Um…Well…It's a long story…" Mai avoided looking at Kazuya, who was glaring daggers at her. "But…yeah."

"…The fact that it hasn't been damaged in anyway means that someone of very high skill crafted this object." He put it down. "And that sliding puzzle as well…whoever made this puzzle certainly wanted to make sure no one could access what was inside it. You don't often come across items like this."

I tilted my head. "Have you come across something like this before, Lin-san?"

He paused for a moment. "…No. But I've rarely heard of anything like it. That in itself is a bad sign."

He turned to Kazuya. "I don't think the curse-like presence that Hara-san is referring to is coming from the container itself."

Kazuya's gaze darkened in understanding. "You think it's coming from the item inside?"

"Yes. I don't think we should investigate this."

We all stared at him in shock. He did not look at us.

"…I think it's a little early to make such a hasty decision." Kazuya retaliated carefully. "This case has piqued my interest. I'd like to find out more about this."

An exasperated expression – one of the few he frequently used – came onto Lin's face. "Do you really think your desire for an 'interesting' case is more important than your safety?"

"As of yet, nothing life-threatening has happened, and I don't see why it should."

"That's a foolish and ignorant thing to say, and you know it."

Lin had definitely struck a nerve here. Kazuya glowered at him.

"If you are afraid to investigate this matter, then leave."

"No. Think, Kazuya. Whatever has been hidden inside that artefact is clearly dangerous. Dangerous enough for it to be concealed in an unbreakable box with such a complex lock. Dangerous enough for the police to be investigating it. A stranger even warned Brown-san and Takigawa-san about it."

"I have no desire to open it." Kazuya shot back. "So there is no danger."

"The man who went missing gave this artefact to Brown-san. We don't know why he did this, but we do know he's been missing for a week. Are those the actions of a man who is safe?"

Kazuya did not reply. ""It's not just the contents of that box that I'm concerned with. That stranger, the foreign woman, made it clear that we're not the only ones who know about this artefact."

Kazuya looked at him calmly. "We are investigating this matter. That is my final word. If you want to leave, then feel free to."

Lin said nothing, but picked up the artefact. "…I'm putting this in a safe place."

He stalked off to a different room, leaving the rest of us in unsettled silence. What he had said made sense.

Who exactly was the woman who had warned us about the artefact?

And what exactly was hidden inside it?


	7. Chapter 7: The Monastery

**(A/N): Wow, I have not updated in a while...I'm so, so, so sorry about that. **

**I mentioned in Sea, Sand and Murder, that I've had exams for a long while and I could do literally no writing in them. Also, (I think I forgot to mention this in my other story) my laptop was broken and it took a long, long time for people to figure out what was wrong with it, and I only just got it back fairly recently. **

**Again, I'm really sorry for the delay.**

**Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

When Lin woke up, he was lying in a bed. It was cold. He stared up at a stone ceiling, filled with a strange numbness in his chest that he did not understand.

Then it came flooding back. His father was dead.

The numbness turned into a wrenching, painful grief. His father was dead. His father had been murdered.

He lay in the bed, the tears streaming down his face and his body shaking with misery until he didn't have the energy to sob anymore. His throat was raw and his head hurt. Soon, sleep was enticing him back to that warm, safe slumber where he forgot about his sorrow and could lie in peace.

The second time he woke up, the rawness of his throat and his thirst drove him to get out of the bed and search for water. As it turned out, he did not have to go far; a tray with an empty glass and a jug of water had been left on the floor next to him.

As he drank – after spilling half of the water on the floor, since the jug was so heavy – Lin vaguely wondered where he was. The entire room was cold, and made out of stone. There was an ugly rug on the floor, but otherwise, the room was quite bare. Maybe he was in the monastery, where his father was taking him to.

Before the painful memories of his father took a hold of him, Lin tried to remember how he got here. Through the pain and the grief, he could remember the guide dragging him along the mountain side, though his eyes had been so filled with tears, Lin had been blinded and tripped most of the way there. Then, more people came, and everyone was talking in a language that he didn't understand, and then…

…Then he woke up in that bed, in this cold room. Slowly, Lin stood up, his legs still aching from the long trek. It was with great effort that he stumbled from the room.

Alone, he wandered the halls for a while, uneasily exploring the strange place. The building, whatever it was, was virtually deserted. All the corridors were disconcertingly quiet and still. Only his soft footsteps provided any sort of noise, or the occasional creak of the wooden rafters.

After some time, Lin slowed to a halt. His legs were still tired, and he wanted to lie down again. In actuality, he had been hoping that he would find someone who could tell him where he was, and what was going to happen to him, but by now, he was too exhausted to care. All he wanted to do was sleep. So much so, his legs gave way to him, and he sat on the floor, helplessly wondering what to do.

However, he was not left alone for long.

The sound of footsteps against the stone floor was startlingly loud after the silence that had hung over the hallways for so long. Slowly, Lin stood up, his legs screaming in protest, and turned to face the source of noise, his fear at once feeding his urge to run away. What if it was the person who had killed his father? What if they had survived, and had come to kill him, too? What if –

"…Oh." The person who came around the corner halted abruptly, and observed Lin in surprise. "You're awake."

It was a small, slight woman with a strange accent and a short stature. She spoke Cantonese, but haltingly, and with very bad pronunciation. Lin did not recognise her.

"What are you doing up? Were you looking for someone?"

Lin regarded her doubtfully. This woman wasn't the person who had killed his father. But she could have been working for the person who did.

At his silence, the woman smiled, seemingly not noticing his reproachful glare. "My name is Luella Johnson." She paused, but still, Lin did not reply. The name was recognisable, though – his father had told him to find this woman. "I know who you are. I worked with your father, Koujou-xiansheng."

At once, Lin froze, forgetting his distrust. "Y-You knew dad?"

"Yes. We were colleagues. He was meant to meet us here." Gently, she offered out her hand. "Do you want to come with me?"

Lin stared at the outstretched hand, debating what to do. This could be a trap. This woman could be lying.

But…

He was tired. He was scared. He was desperate for someone to take control of the situation.

Slowly, Lin took the woman's hand, and allowed her to lead him down the hallways of the strange building. Unlike him, she did not hesitate, or wander aimlessly, but walked with confidence, as if she had been living there all her life.

"…Wh-Who are you?" He asked, his throat somewhat hoarse.

"I'm Luella Johnson." The woman repeated herself.

"N-No…I meant…you worked with dad. So…"

She gave him a smile. "Yes. I'm a parapsychological researcher, like he was. My field of study was a little different to his, though."

Lin regarded this new information quietly. This woman knew all about spirits then, too? His father had told him that they were going to a monastery for work reasons, and Lin knew that this meant there was something unnatural afoot in the area. He didn't fully understand what a parapsychological researcher was, but he knew that spirits were heavily involved. His father sometimes managed to get rid of them from buildings, and lifted curses, too. Did this woman deal with spirits as well, then?

Eventually, Luella Johnson slowed to a halt. The two stood outside a heavy, wooden door with strange carvings that Lin did not recognise. Luella Johnson let go of Lin's hand and walked closer to the door, her hand resting on the handle.

She paused. "…Koujou-xiansheng, I know you must be confused, but there are some questions that we really want to ask you. Do you think you could answer them for us?

After a moment of hesitation, Lin nodded uncertainly.

"Ok. Let's go in, shall we?"

* * *

Three people stood in the room, conversing quietly. When they saw Lin, they stopped. The silence that ensued shook Lin's nerves, and he avoided eye contact with the adults.

Luella Johnson stepped forwards and said something in a foreign language quietly, before turning back to Lin.

"This is Koujou Lin." She introduced him in Cantonese. "Professor Lin's son."

She gestured to one of the adults – a woman with dark hair and intelligent eyes. "This is Carla Perez. She's a translator and negotiator.

Carla Perez bowed in a traditional Cantonese manner, and when she spoke, her linguistic skills were perfect.

"Hello, Koujou-xiansheng. It's a pleasure to meet you." Though she smiled, her manner was formal, and it only served to put Lin more on edge.

Luella Johnson motioned to the second adult – a man wearing a white lab coat. His eyes kept on drifting over to a computer that had been set up, which looked bizarrely out of place in the old room that was similar to the room Lin had woken up in. His hair was unkempt, and the sides of his hands were stained with ink from writing.

"This is Martin Davis. He's a scientist, like me."

He nodded curtly to Lin. "Hello."

The last adult did not wait to be introduced by Luella Johnson, but stepped forward, and bowed.

"Hello, Koujou-xiansheng." He smiled, his hands in his pockets, and his causal demeanour made Lin feel a little more at ease. "I'm Takumi Mura. It's great to meet you."

Lin felt slightly overwhelmed by all these adults, and the many names and faces he now had to remember. Part of him worried that, in his exhaustion, he would forget some of them.

"Now, Koujou-xiansheng." Luella Johnson pulled out a chair, and offered him a seat, which he took. "We would really appreciate it if you could tell us how you got here, and where your father is."

Lin swallowed painfully, his face paling. Didn't they know?

"…Where am I? How did you find me?" He asked, his voice even quieter than it had been.

"Kunlun Monastery. A mountain guide brought you here." Martin Davis spoke brusquely. "Said you were Koujou Lin. Then left."

Lin nodded, and took a shaky breath. "We…we were travelling. To the monastery." Already, this voice was getting thick. "A person was standing in the distance. Dad thought it was a monk. H-He went over t-to talk to him." The tears had begun to well up again. "A-And…He st-stabbed him. H-He tried to push-push us off the mountain…A-And dad fell…"

Once more, he dissolved into tears, the grief of his father's death once again being rubbed raw. Someone placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it did little to console him.

Finally, when the sobbing stopped, Carla Perez walked up to him, and crouched in front of him.

"…Koujou-xiansheng." Her voice was clear and gentle. "Do you know why this person hurt your father?"

Lin shook his head, wiping the water from his eyes. "I-I don't…" He paused. Though he had tried his best to block the entire memory, something suddenly stood out to him amidst the wrenching pain.

"…The man…he said he was…a messenger."

Around him, the adults were casting each other glances of confusion and worry.

"A messenger?" Carla repeated.

"Y-Yes. From…" He paused. "…'R.M'"

Immediately, the atmosphere of the room changed. Carla slowly stood up, glancing at the other adults.

Trying to put on a calm smile, Luella turned to Lin. "Would you like me to take you back to your room? You look very tired. You could do with some more sleep."

Nodding, Lin allowed Luella to lead him from the room, back to the winding hallways. However, they had barely walked through the heavy door when a person approached them.

"Oh." Luella let go of Lin's hand. "Shi, is something wrong?"

The monk stepped a little way away, his robes just touching the floor, and a look of concern on his face. In hushed voices that Lin could not hear, they began to discuss something. Whatever it was, it must have been serious – both people were solemn in their conversation.

While they talked, Lin walked a little closer to the door. The three adults had been joined by another person – from the looks of it, they were a monk – and were talking hurriedly in Mandarin. Lin could just about understand it.

"…what does this mean?" Martin Davis was speaking. "This 'R.M'…they're the same people who killed Patrick, aren't they?"

"It sounds like it. The police ruled it a robbery gone wrong, didn't they?" Takumi Mura confirmed. "But his son – only six years old, poor thing – he said differently. He mentioned the same name, didn't he?"

"Whoever this 'R.M' is, they're not keeping themselves particularly secret from us, are they?" Carla commented.

"Maybe they don't want to." Martin suggested. "Maybe they want us to know that they're out there, and that they're targeting our members."

"But why?" Takumi Mura asked. "Why are they killing us? What's their purpose?"

No one could answer that.

"…What are we going to do about the Professor's son?" Carla spoke up. "His mother isn't alive anymore. At least Dara and his sister have their mother. Koujou has no one."

"…I don't know." Martin sighed. "He can stay here for the time being, perhaps, until we figure out what to do. Are you sure he has no living relatives?"

"None that I know of." Carla shook her head. "Poor child."

The monk coughed, making themselves known, and said something quietly.

Carla frowned. "What? The marks on the monks are spreading?"

"I'll go take a look at them." Martin offered. "I just can't figure out what kind of ailment – or spirit – is causing this."

As they began to walk towards the door, Lin took a hasty step back, turning to Luella once more. She seemed to be finishing her conversation.

"…Koujou-xiansheng," her face was grimmer than before, "I'll take you back, but I'm afraid I have to go afterwards. Is that alright?"

When Lin nodded, she smiled, and led him back down the hallways again. Fatigue was overcoming him again. However, he was still curious about the conversation he had just heard.

"…Johnson-xiansheng." He spoke up.

"Hm?"

"Are…are the monks ill here?"

"No." She seemed as if she was lying.

"…Johnson-xiansheng."

"Yes?"

"…Is there a spirit here? Or a curse? Is that why dad was coming here?"

She hesitated. "…It's nothing to concern yourself with. Honestly. There's nothing to worry about."

From the way she spoke, it seemed to confirm Lin's suspicions. So there was something bad here? And it was making the monks ill? And his father had been coming here to stop it?

But…what exactly was it? Was it safe to be here?

Not that Lin had a choice. He had nowhere else he could go, and he had no idea what he was going to do now. His father was dead, and he'd never had any other family. It was clear from what he'd heard that even the other adults had no idea what to do with him.

When they reached the room where Lin had woken up, Luella Johnson did not stay around for long. She seemed worried about something.

"I'm sorry, Koujou-xiansheng, but I need to go. We'll come see you later."

Lin did not respond to this, and she did not wait for a response. She left promptly, and Lin was left alone again, the single thought lingering in his head as he drifted back to sleep.

What was going to happen to him now?


	8. Chapter 8: The Chase

**(A/N):**** I realise it's been quite a while since I last uploaded, and I'm sorry about that. **

**I've been having a few problems with some different things, and a load of volunteering to do as well, so again, I'm sorry it took me a while to upload.**

**(I'm not giving up on this story, though. I think I'm too stubborn for that. As for Sea, Sand and Murder, I'll hopefully finish the next chapter soon.)**

**I hope you're all having a good summer! I'm certainly glad to not have to wake up so early every morning.**

**Thank you for reading this story, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

"What do you think is going to happen?"

I faced Houshou, who was sitting opposite me at the café. The place was relatively empty today, which was a rare event, but quite an enjoyable one. I still disliked the press of crowds and small areas. Large, packed masses were enough to make me feel uneasy, and any small room sparked my nerves. Elevators were out of the question. I had not attempted to use one since the Mattaku incident.

"I don't know. Naru-kun and Lin-san are definitely on edge about it, aren't they?"

"Yeah." The two of them had insisted on keeping the artefact under lock and key. It had been decided two days ago to keep the relic hidden away, after Lin had announced the ominousness of whatever resided inside the container. Considering that spirits – our main forte – did not appear to be involved with the item, we had been 'put on hold', as Kazuya had phrased it, much to the irritation of everyone else.

"I wonder what they can really do." Houshou went on. "It's not as if they can just exorcise a spirit and call it a day's work, you know?"

"Mm." I nodded. "We don't even know what's inside it, or what exactly it does."

Houshou frowned, scratching his head. "I hate curses. They're so difficult to deal with."

"That case at Rokuryo high school was definitely a lot of trouble, wasn't it?"

He sighed. "If we're dealing with the same problem, I think I'll cry."

Outside, though the air itself was mild, the wind was cold and harsh. I was just thankful that it was not raining.

"But…what I'm really concerned with," I bit my lip, "is why that man – Dara Brennan – was missing in the first place."

"Do you think he ran away, maybe?"

I tilted my head. "But from what? And the police seemed to think he had been abducted. That makes me nervous."

Houshou scratched his shoulder distractedly. Ever since he had dislocated it, it often ached. At times, it was so painful for him, that he couldn't move his entire arm.

"…Maybe…maybe someone wants whatever is inside the box. Sandra Perkins was looking for it too, wasn't she?"

"It certainly seemed that way. From what we heard on the extract, though, none of the other archaeologists or historians wanted anything to do with it."

"Do you think they know about what's inside?" Houshou wondered. "If they know what's causing the curse-like presence?"

"I don't know…" We fell quiet, troubled. It was a tricky subject, and we knew too little about the artefact itself to draw any real valid conclusions about its nature, or why it was simultaneously feared and sought after.

"Did Naru-kun mention who exactly Dara Brennan is?" Houshou spoke up.

"He told me briefly before I left." It had just been when I was about to leave the office. He had pulled me to one side and spoken to me quietly.

"…Apparently, he's an archaeologist and historian, like Sandra." I remembered. "He's from the Republic of Ireland, and he focuses more on Prehistoric Irish history, but he had worked with Sandra Perkins a few times." I thought back to what Kazuya had told me. "He had been staying over here 'on business', although what that business was, isn't very clear, apparently. He was staying in Osaka, and had been here for about 10 days when he went missing, a week or so ago. And…" I hesitated. "…Actually, Shibuya-san was acting really strangely."

"What do you mean?"

"He asked me if _I_ knew him. Actually, he kept on repeating the question, to check I was certain. So, I asked Shibuya-san if he knew Dara Brennan. He said he didn't, but...I don't know. I just don't think he was telling the truth."

Houshou frowned. "Really?"

"Yeah. When I asked him what made him think I would have known Dara Brennan, he just told me that Sinead was a friend of his."

"Sinead-san?" Houshou sounded surprised. "Your cousin?"

Sinead Brown, my cousin and close friend, was a liaison officer who worked internationally, often focusing on crimes and events that could only be explained through spiritual and supernatural means. As of now, she was in Nigeria, searching after members of the infamous smuggling group, R.M, which had been heavily involved in the Mattaku Psychiatric Ward.

"Yeah." I tilted my head in thought. "I'm pretty sure that she and Shibuya-san have worked together at some point."

"Three years ago." Houshou said .

"Huh?"

"Mai-kun kept on talking about it. Apparently, they met three years ago in Ireland."

I frowned. "That's strange….Neither of them talk about it much, do they?" Now that I thought about it, Sinead had only ever mentioned it in passing to me once, very briefly.

"Not really…Have you ever been to Ireland?"

"No, no." I shook my head. "A flight from Australia to Europe would be really expensive."

"Yeah, I guess we're not all minted like Naru-kun and Ayako-kun are."

I laughed. "If only."

Houshou hesitated, and he looked away suddenly, avoiding my gaze for a while.

"…John. Can I…Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

He looked extremely uncertain. "I…I know that…" He exhaled. I watched him curiously.

"…I know that you and Brooks-san…you had a relationship and…John, are you ok?"

Hurriedly, I rubbed my eyes, turning my head to hide the tears. "I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

The mere sound of his name was enough to spark that raging grief inside of me. It had been more than a year since he had passed away, but any reminder of what had happened to him hurt like a fresh wound.

Kazuki Brooks was a man I had met before the Mattaku incident. We had become very close, but he had been inextricably entangled in the situation, and eventually lost his life to it. We loved each other, but in the end, I had been forced to cleanse his spirit from a lonely abandoned house where the spirits of the Mattaku victims were residing.

At first, it wasn't just the anxiety I had been grappling with, or the PTSD, or the guilt of knowing I had erased the one I loved from the face of the earth. It was sheer, overwhelming grief. For months, it was as if I was drowning in some sort of force that I could neither fight against nor had any desire to. It got bad. Bad enough that I heard whispers of speculations about my mental state slipping into depression.

But, somehow, I don't know how, I pulled through. Maybe it was the constant therapy that helped me to deal with the events that happened last spring. Maybe it was the satisfaction of knowing that those who had done this to me – to us – had been convicted, locked away forever, never being able to hurt me or anyone else again. Or maybe time itself had simply washed away the pain and soothed the scars that had been inflicted upon me.

Still, whenever I heard that name, those scars would be reopened. It was enough to make me cry, every single time.

"…Yeah." My voice was a lot quieter than before.

"And I know that such strong feelings for a person don't fade away so quickly. I understand that. But…" He trailed off. I looked back up, and stared at him. He was hiding his gaze again.

"…But?"

He bit his lip, and stared down at the table. "…The thing is…I…"

"…You…what?"

He swallowed hard. "…I…I…"

"Bou-san!"

Houshou jumped at the sound of his name being called very loudly across the café. Everyone turned to stare as Mai came scampering over to us, followed in tow by Yasuhara.

"Hi!" She grinned, sitting herself down next to Houshou, cheerfully ignoring the disapproving murmurs of those watching. "How are you both?"

Yasuhara sat down by me. "I hope we're not interrupting anything important, are we?"

The glare that Houshou gave them both was more irked than normal at their antics. "No. Not at all."

"Excellent." Yasuhara smiled in the charming, professional manner he liked to adopt. "How are you, John-kun?"

"I'm good. Is college going well?"

"Yes, it is. In fact, it's actually quite easy. For someone of my intelligence, anyway." He said, jokingly.

Mai scoffed. "Aren't you humble? Almost as humble as Naru-kun."

He shrugged. "Almost."

"What are you two doing here?" Houshou scowled.

"Oh, you know…" Mai leant forwards, smirking. "We were just checking everything was fine…"

"Bou-san wasn't going cheapskate or anything, was he?" Yasuhara asked me. I did not understand what he was insinuating. We weren't on a date, so I didn't quite follow.

"Of course I wasn't!" Houshou interjected defensively. "Did you come here just to be nosy?" I wondered why he was so irritated about their untimely interruption.

"Actually, there was a point to us coming here, in all honesty." Yasuhara resumed his more serious demeanour. "I heard recently that you've come across an unusual case. I tried to contact Naru-kun, but I couldn't get hold of him."

"Oh, right." Houshou scratched his head. "Where do we start…?"

* * *

It took a while to explain the situation to Yasuhara. The entire time, he listened with a thoughtful look on his face. When the explanation was finally finished, he remained quiet for a moment longer.

"…I see." He frowned. "Do you think…that Lin-san perhaps knows more about this than he is letting on?"

"What?!" Mai stared at him, incredulous. "What makes you say that?!"

"It just sounded like, from his reaction, that he had actually come across this artefact before."

"Well, why didn't he say anything before?" Houshou remarked. "The moment you showed it to Naru-kun, John, wouldn't he have said something?"

I tilted my head. "Actually…at that point, I'm pretty sure Lin-san was on his computer. He didn't actually come over and look at it. Then Shibuya-san put it straight into his drawer when I left to go to the police station."

"And it sounds like he knows quite a lot about this artefact, just from having one look at it." Yasuhara continued. "His warning, too…I really think there might be a possibility that he has come across it before, despite what he says."

Houshou and Mai still looked a little sceptical, and I had to admit, I found it hard to imagine that Lin would lie about something like that.

"And what about that woman? The one who approached you?" Yasuhara asked. "Could you tell what country she was from? That might help us find her. Whoever she is, she definitely knows something about this artefact, and it doesn't seem like she was approaching you out of ill-intention. Actually, if anything, she was trying to be helpful in some way. If we could find her, she could tell us some vital information."

"That's true. Um…" I tried to think back. "She…she…I think she might have been Hispanic, maybe? That's just a guess…"

"What did she look like?"

"Dark brown hair…Wearing a red coat…and a scarf, too."

"Her hair was pretty short, wasn't it?" Houshou commented. "Maybe just a bit shorter than yours, Mai-kun."

"That's right." I nodded thoughtfully. "And her eyes were brown. She was of average height, I'd say. Probably Ayako-kun's height. Maybe in her forties."

"Huh?" Mai frowned, and pointed to the window of the café, on the other side of the room. "Like her?"

We turned to look. A woman was standing on the other side of the glass, watching us intently. The red coat she wore stood out like blood against the dreary grey landscape of the city.

Immediately, I turned back my gaze, and gestured for the others to do the same.

"…That's her." I breathed to the others. "That's definitely her."

"What do we do?" Houshou whispered. "Is she following us?"

I nodded, not daring to look at her lest she left – it took all my will power not to.

"Why is she following you?" Mai hissed. "What does she want?"

"…Last time, she was warning us not to get involved with the artefact." I pursed my lips. "Maybe she's here to warn us again."

"Perhaps." Yasuhara looked unsure.

"Well, what do we do?" Houshou repeated. "Should we try and talk to her?"

At last, I dared a glance at the window. "Shit." I stood up quickly. "She's gone."

We ran outside, ignoring the stares of the other customers, to the cold wind that attacked us with icy swipes, despite the mild weather.

"Where did she go?" I scanned the streets hastily, trying to pick out the red coat against the throngs of people.

"I don't know." Houshou exhaled. "…We should find her."

"Bou-san, go with Mai-kun." Yasuhara decided suddenly. "I'll go with John-kun. Be careful."

"Will do." With that, the two of them set off left, and we began our search to the right. Already, I could feel my nerves building up, and I moved quickly to try and shake off the adrenaline that was seeping into my blood.

"Who is she, exactly?" Yasuhara asked as he kept up with me.

"I don't know." I paused. "…I don't think it's Sandra Perkins. Their voices are different."

Yasuhara's voice lowered. "You don't think…she's following you…" He hesitated, as if struggling to put his thoughts into words. "…Like colleague-san did?"

The mere mention of the name was enough to make my blood freeze. "…I don't know." It was all I was willing to say on the topic. I didn't want to think about that now.

Sensing this, Yasuhara did not pursue the matter further, but pulled on his gloves and scanned the streets once more. Still, there was no sign of the woman.

"Maybe she went up a different street?" He suggested.

Really, there was no way to tell, with the dwindling but still large masses of people, walking down the streets and bracing themselves against the frequent blasts of winds that buffeted them.

"…Maybe." I shivered, gazing on the streets one last time. "…I think we should find Houshou and Mai-kun again. They might've had better luck."

I began to retrace our steps down the street, walking briskly in the cold. "Let's go."

Very soon, I realised I was walking alone. Yasuhara had not moved; he was staring at the opposite street.

"…There she is!" With no warning, he began to run.

"Wai – Yasuhara!" I took off after him, suddenly filled with fear. We didn't know who this woman was, and whether her intentions were good or bad. This could be a trap.

Yasuhara moved surprisingly quickly, and surprisingly recklessly. He barely waited for the traffic lights to turn before crossing the streets, and soon I was more terrified he was going to be knocked over than attacked. Passer-bys stared and tutted, shaking their heads as we disrupted the pace, and it was a miracle neither of us crashed into anyone.

"Yasuhara-san!" I called ahead, beginning to tire. "Wait a minute!"

He didn't slow, but only glanced over his shoulder. "Hurry up!" He shouted back.

I quickened my pace. At this point, I didn't even recognise the street we were on.

At last, Yasuhara began to slow, and turned into an alley way. I followed, though it grated against each and every instinct that I owned.

"Y…Yasu…hara…" When I reached him, I bent double, breathing hard. "…Let's go. Alley ways are not good."

He didn't respond, so I grabbed his shoulder and straightened myself out. "Please, Yasuhara-san. Let's –"

I froze. There she was. She was panting hard, as if she'd been running. Her red coat had been stained with splashes of mud.

For a moment, we stared at her, and she stared at us, as we regained our breath.

Finally, she spoke up. "…You move fast."

"Thank you." Yasuhara replied.

He made to take a step forward, but I grabbed him and pulled him back, my nerves beginning to climb rapidly.

"Yasuhara-san!" I whispered urgently. "Please be careful!"

"Why were you watching us?" Yasuhara demanded, fearlessly. "Have you been following us?"

She frowned, and folded her arms indignantly. She looked just as fierce as Yasuhara did.

"I was looking out for you."

"What?" I stepped forwards now. "Why? Who are you?"

"That artefact you're looking into?" She pursed her lips. "Someone around here is too. Someone kidnapped Dara when he had it. Doesn't it occur to you they might try and do the same to you? I'm telling you, get rid of that thing."

"Wait, you knew him? The man who went missing?" I regarded her warily. "And what do you know about that artefact?"

She looked around uncomfortably. "He went missing around two weeks ago. I was meant to meet him here, and he never showed. Then the police told me he had been abducted." Quickly, she glanced over her shoulder. "And someone has been following _me_ ever since. That's why you should get rid of it, before something bad happens to you as well."

She turned to walk away, but Yasuhara ran after her, and grabbed her by the arm.

"Hey! Don't just leave! You need to explain to us what the hell is going on here."

"I don't need to explain anything." She retaliated, shaking off his grip.

"You can't just say things like that and walk away." I agreed. "Tell us who you are, and why everyone is so scared about this artefact."

She looked between us for a long time, her brow furrowed, as if she was mulling over her choices. We needed her to talk to us. Whoever she was, she knew something about the artefact. The information could be invaluable.

After a painstakingly long time, she sighed heavily.

"…Fine. I'll tell you what I know."


End file.
